Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 887

His voice was rough, tinged with a vulnerability he almost never showed. There was a plea buried in there.

Clara kept her eyes fixed ahead, her tone steady and unyielding. "There's nothing left for us to talk about. We don't belong in the same world."

That last part seemed to trigger something in him. She'd said those exact words before they weren't from the same world. That's how she'd always kept her distance, always refused to let him get close. And now, even after everything, she was still saying it.

He just stood there, silent. The little bit of color that had warmed his face faded fast, leaving him so pale it looked like he might pass out right there.

Jackson stepped forward, grabbing his arm. "Dylan, you need to get some rest. Come on."

Dylan glanced at Clara, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something. One hand pressed carefully against his side.

Clara took a breath, her voice calm. "While you're still with it, let's go. We need to get the divorce papers at Palm Bay. If we wait any longer, the office might close."

"Clara!" Jackson snapped, his eyes flashing. There was a hard edge in his voice

now.

Dylan's whole body went rigid. Sweat stood out on his forehead, and for a second, the whole world seemed to tilt.

caught him just in time, panic

pass out, but he was shaking, his skin slick

immediately. "Fine. You can stay here. I'll go to

collapse, and you still want to drag him off to get

didn't say anything. She just stood there, silent and

loosened, over and over. Finally, it was

feel well right now. When I'm better, we'll go.

were so soft, so tentative, it was almost

didn't look back. She just got in her car. "Alright. Mr. Dylan, when you're feeling better, let me know. I'm

the

crumpled, eyes

then did he realize how bad it was—the bandages were soaked through with blood, bright and

the wound. "This was a deep out. You need to be extra careful-don't get it wet and watch for infection. If it

He just nodded,

bandages were on, Jackson sat at Dylan's bedside, staring at

really going on with you and

looked down, his face ghost-white, sweat still clinging to his brow

he could never be